1. Is the account of why Moses has to die in Deut. 32:48-52 a
mythologization?
In the Exodus 17 account of the waters of Meribah, there is no
hint
of disobedience by either Moses or Aaron, the reason stated
for
their
having to die before reaching the promised land in Deut. 32.
Interestingly,
there is another account of the waters of Meribah at the beginning
of
Numbers
20 in which Moses and Aaron disobey by striking the rock twice --
but
this
is a prelude to explaining why Aaron has to die by the end of
Numbers
20!
I must admit that the Girardian understanding of myth has me
questioning
what really happened with the deaths of Moses and Aaron. It almost
seems
more likely to me that they were killed because someone got tired
of
their
leadership, making them the scapegoats at times of crisis, but
were
able
to successfully mythologize the account of Exodus 17 so that God
could
be blamed for their deaths as appropriate punishments for their
disobedience.

Romans 5:1-11

Exegetical Note

1. There is an exegetical note that is of tremendous importance
to
me.
I would dare to say that this decision of translators changes the
entire
nature of our reading of Romans. I am referring to the last phrase
of
5:9
in the NRSV: "saved through him from the wrath of God." The
original
Greek
is simply: sothesometha di' autou apo tes orges. In short,
there
is no trace of the words of God in the original. The
translators
have assumed God's ownership of the wrath and inserted it in. (By
the
way,
in verse 5:2, "rejoice in the hope of the glory of God," Paul does
bother to state the words of God, so Paul wasn't in the
habit
of
leaving out words that we should feel like we need to fill in.)

Is it just the NRSV? I have twelve English translations ready at
hand
with my Bibleworks software program, and eight of the
twelve
add
God into the equation of "the wrath." (If you are interested in
the
four
which didn't: the King James, New King James, New American Bible,
and
[true
to its name] Young's Literal Translation.) In the New Jerusalem
Bible,
the translators even interpretatively change the verb to "the
retribution
of God"!

It makes me want to cry out, "My God! It is clear that we are
still
your enemies!"

We continue to want to make God responsible for our violence --
even
when St. Paul is trying desperately to work that difficult
transformation
of the idea of God's wrath simply into "the wrath." Paul in Romans
is
trying
to help us to see that the wrath which kills us is our own wrath.
If
God
is said to have a wrath at all, it is simply one of turning us
over to
the consequences of our own wrath. This addition on the part of
the
translators
completely kills Paul's efforts! See a full exposition of this
thesis
regarding
Paul's re-working of the "wrath of God" in Romans in "My
Core
Convictions,"
Part
II.

It becomes imperative that I offer you once again James
Alison's
insights
into
the
transformation of "the wrath of God," cited from the
section "The Pauline Witness" in The
Joy of Being Wrong (from chapter four of that book,
which we
have
been featuring during Lent). Last week I offered you the excerpt
of this section in its entirety; this week it important to
give you
the first four paragraphs in the body of these reflections:

If it can be accepted that one of the first fruits of
the
resurrection
in terms of human understanding is a new understanding of God
(deathless,
loving his son, and thus showing righteousness), and
simultaneously, a
new understanding of humankind (constituted in death, killing the
son,
and thus showing sinfulness, within a context of forgiveness),
then we
can imagine (at least) two stages to the preaching of this new
insight.
The first is an early stage in which this insight is preached as
such,
within the terms of reference of the linguistic-religious matrix
within
which the insight was born. The second stage is the gradual
development
from this insight of a new language about God and about humankind,
where,
consonant with the insight itself, there begins to develop a
theology
based
on the new understanding of God, and a dependent anthropology
based on
the new understanding of humanity. It seems to me that we have
evidence
of exactly this process in the juxtaposition of the Pauline and
the
Johannine
witnesses.

In the Johannine witness, set out above, we have a later stage
in
the
development where the anthropological working out of the insight
is
clearer,
as is the clarification of the understanding of God from
elements of
discourse
formed within human violence. (1)
Thus
John
is able both to offer a theology worked out from the new
understanding
of God, and reveal the anthropological mechanism that led to the
revelation
more clearly as an anthropological mechanism. In the Pauline
witness we
have a somewhat earlier stage in the working out of the same
insight,
where
the place of the Johannine anthropological mechanism is taken by
Paul's
meditation on the function of the law. It seems to me that by
reading
the
Pauline version of the same basic insight in the light of the
Johannine
development it becomes possible to achieve a certain clarity as
to what
Paul is about that is entirely faithful to his thought. The
evidence is
to be found in the first eight chapters of Romans.
(2)

In the first place we can see that for Paul the Gospel is the
Gospel
of the righteousness of God. This is what the death and
resurrection of
Jesus has revealed for him. That is shown in Romans 1:17, and
again in
Romans 3:25. What has happened in between these two references
is that
Paul, because of the necessity of clarifying the question of the
exact
theological nature of the Law, has gone in for a long
explanation of
the
inverse consequence of the same revelation of the righteousness
of God:
the revelation of what he calls the wrath of God. The content of
this
revelation
is exactly the same as what I suggested above: that all humans
are
constitutionally
wrong (we all have a "debased mind," 1:28), and constitutionally
idolaters,
as is demonstrated by our not knowing the righteousness of God.
It
would
be as well to examine this notion of the wrath of God because of
the
easy
misunderstanding to which it is prone.

The word wrath (orgé) appears ten times in Romans.
Only
once does it appear as the wrath of God (Rom. 1:18). On the one
occasion
where it appears to be something inflicted by God on people as a
result
of our wickedness (Rom. 3:5) Paul expressly indicates the
mythical
nature
of the terminology ("I speak in a human way"). On all the other
occasions
where the term appears (2:5, 8; 4:15; 5:9; 9:22; 12:19; 13:4, 5)
it is
impersonal. Even in the first case, where the orgé is
linked
to theou the content of the wrath of God is itself a
demythification
of a vindictive account of God (whose righteousness has just
been
declared).
For
the content of the wrath is the handing over by God of us to
ourselves.
Three times in the following verses the content of the wrath is
described
in terms of handing over: 1:24; 1:26; and 1:28. That is to say
that the
wrath, rather than being an act of divine vengeance is a divine
non-resistance
to human evil. (3) However, I
would
suggest
that it is more than that. The word "handed over" (paredoken)
has,
in primitive Christian sources a particularly subtle set of
resonances.
(4) For God is described as handing over (paredoken)
his
own son to us in a text no further from our own than Romans
8:32. The
handing
over of the son to us, and the handing over of ourselves to sin
appear
to be at the very least parallel. The same verb (paredothé)
is
used
in
4:25 where Jesus was handed over for our trespasses, and raised
for our justification. I would suggest that it is the handing
over of
the
son to our killing him that is in fact the same thing as handing
us
over
to our own sins. Thus wrath is life in the sort of world which
kills
the
son of God. (JBW, pp. 125-127)

Resources

1. James Alison, The
Joy
of
Being Wrong, p. 151. As a follow-up to this week's
(and last
week's)
excerpt on "The Pauline Witness," I offer an excerpt of
Alison's
section from the next chapter on "The
Pauline Understanding of Desire" (pp. 147-156). It's a bit
longer
but
a good follow-up, I think, to last week's reflections on Paul. I
think
that it also fits the pattern of John 3-4. John 3 gives us the
problem
of our involvement in death along with God's promise of life. John
4
seems
to focus more on the problem of distorted desire: namely, that
with
mimetic
desire our desires become famished cravings, a continual thirst
for
more
-- in short, addictions. Only Jesus offers the living water of
desiring
in God's love that can quench our thirst. This week's offerings
from
Alison
on Paul focus more on that latter problem (see also below).

3. Robert Hamerton-Kelly, Sacred
Violence, pp. 171-173. He sees Romans 5:1-11 as
parallel to 1
Corinthians
13 in laying out for us the foundation of a new human order based
on
"The
True Triangle of Love: Faith, Hope, and Love." Link to an excerpt
of the first part of chapter 7, "Sacred
Violence and the Reformation of Desire," pp. 161-173. Here
is the
conclusion
which puts Romans 5:1-11 at the heart of his argument:

For Paul the chief concrete image of agape is the
self-giving
of Christ in the crucifixion. In Romans 5:1-11 the triad of faith,
hope,
and love points to the work of Christ as the substance of the idea
of
love.
The essence of the divine agape is the act of God in giving the
Son to
die for enemies (Rom 5:10). In Galatians 2:19-21 the crucifixion
is a
demonstration
of the fact that God "loved me and gave himself for me" (tou
agapesantos
me kai paradontos heauton hyper emou -- Gal 2:20). In 2
Corinthians
5:14 -- "the love of Christ controls us because we are convinced
that
one
has died for all (hyper panton); therefore all have died"
--
expresses
the same idea.

The essence of these statements is in the preposition hyper
with
the genitive: Christ died on our behalf, to do us good, to give
us
something
of value. This inverts the insinuation of the serpent that God
is
envious.
It demonstrates the divine generosity and thus disarms rivalry
with
God,
replacing it with the proper mimesis of God's love. (p. 173)

Reflections and Questions

1. "For if while we were enemies, we were reconciled to God
through
the death of his Son..." I view this as the evangelical basis for
the
Christian
ethical charge to love others even to the point of loving our
enemies.
We come to be able to love our enemies because God loved us even
while
we were still enemies. Once again, see "My
Core
Convictions,"
Part
II.

John 4:5-42

Resources

1. James Alison, Raising
Abel,
p. 195. Alison gives the penultimate word in this book to Rev. 7
and
John
4, with their images of satisfied desire in never-ending waters.
(The
last
word goes to Hebrews 12:18-24.) Some of what comes before his
quote of
John 4 connects to the issue of suffering raised by Romans 5:1-5
(mentioned
above). But I'm only going to share the last paragraph:

Here it seems to me that we have a key issue: the
revelation
of God's absolutely creative vitality serves to re-create and
nourish
our
imagination, and, at the same time, the fact that we be induced
into
praising
God, opening out our imagination, works to allow us to be seduced
by a
beauty and a joy which, they alone, serve to re-create in us ever
deeper
desires which will never be frustrated, which will be satisfied
and
fulfilled
beyond our wildest hopes. It is not for nothing that an Elder
points
the
seer of Revelation to those who are dressed in white, bringing
together
elements from Isaiah (49:10 and 25:8), and from Psalm 23, and
mixing
them
with the image of the lamb standing slain in the center of the
heavenly
liturgy: 'These are they which have come out of the great
tribulation,
and have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of
the
lamb.
It is because of this that they are before the throne of God, and
serve
him day and night in his temple: and he that sitteth on the throne
shall
dwell among them. They shall hunger no more, neither thirst any
more;
neither
shall they suffer the scorching of the sun, for the lamb which
is
in
the midst of the throne shall feed them, and shall lead them
unto
living
fountains of waters: and God shall wipe away all tears from
their eyes.'
(Rev
7:14-17)
Fountains
of living water! The biblical symbol par
excellence,
proper to a harsh, dry, Middle Eastern land, of human desire
absolutely
fulfilled, without frustration, running over, harmonious and
peaceable.
It is this same fountain which Jesus had offered to the woman at
the
well
of Samaria, instead of the water which does not satisfy: 'The one
who
drinks
of the water which I shall give will never more be thirsty: for
the
water
that I shall give will become in that person a spring of water
welling
up into life without end.' (John 4:14) The fixing of the mind on
the
things
that are above has as its end to recreate in us a pacific
imitative
desire
which does not know frustration, but whose longing, viscerally
moved,
is
to participate actively, by creating the wedding banquet of the
Lamb in
the midst of this world, in God's creative vivaciousness, utterly
incapable
of frustration.

3. Andrew Marr, "Healing
a
Broken
Community
at
the Well" (online article). He expands on the
theme that this woman was likely a scapegoat for her town's
people; he
compares it to Girard's reading of the Gerasene Demoniac.

1. Many of the details of this story are lost on the modern
audience
who do not realize the dynamics of a first century Jewish man
talking
to
a Samaritan woman. I think it is helpful to get into character as
one
of
the Samaritan men from this woman's town (or, for female
preachers, the
woman herself) who came to believe because of her testimony. In
more of
a narrative form, it is easier to fill in some of those dynamics
without
it sounding too much like a lecture. For an example, see the sermons
"A Shocking Revelation," the 1996,
1999,
and 2002 versions, which start
out
similarly
but have differing conclusions. In 1996
I focused more on Bailie's theme of having a loving encounter with
Jesus
that changes, that gives us the psychological (he uses the term
"ontological"
more these days) depth we need to exist in our modern situation.
In 1999
I emphasized more the fact that this woman's testimony was the
first
key
to the many other Samaritans who came to have an encounter with
Jesus,
too, through her. We were emphasizing outreach into our urban
neighborhood
at Emmaus, and a key to that is learning to share our own healing
encounters
with Jesus. The 2002 version is
somewhat
of a hybrid; I was also using the format of reading John's text
within
the character's telling of the story.

2. An element that I missed in my 1996 and 1999 renderings of
this
story
(which I tried to correct a bit in 2002) is one for which, as a
man, I
welcome the help of female colleagues to see: the mythologizing
element
for a woman such as the one we meet in this story. The ending of
her
marriages
may have been for relatively innocent reasons in a culture in
which the
husband has a complete monopoly on the matter of divorce. The
succession
of marriages would have the habit of building on one another to
destroy
the woman's reputation -- sadly, perhaps even to the point at
which she
internalizes it, too. It seems by the habit of going to the well
at
midday,
a time when she would be least likely to meet others, that she had
a
bad
reputation. But in a patriarchal society, how much of that
reputation
grew
out of the woman's own actions, and how much out of the
scapegoating
mechanisms
of a culture oppressive to women?

3. Another element to attend to would be the idea of living water
posed
above under the Romans 5 lesson. The water which quenches (in John
6 it
will be the bread of life which satisfies) is a remedy for the
distortions
of human desire. With mimetic desire bouncing off of one another,
our
desires
become famished cravings, a continual thirst for more -- in short,
addictions.
Only Jesus offers the living water of desiring in God's love (the
antidote
to desiring through each other) that can quench our thirst.

And Jesus mixes his metaphors when the disciples return with
food,
telling
them, "My food is to do the will of him who sent me and to
complete his
work" (John 4:34). There could hardly be a more direct playing
into the
language of mimetic theory. Jesus came to satisfy our famished
cravings
by nourishing us with God's desire. (The language of completing
God's
work
also looks ahead to next week's
John 9
passage
and James Alison's brilliant reading of it.)

4. In 2005 I began the Lenten season by preaching the story of
Genesis
3 around the insight of mimetic theory into persons as being
constituted
through the eyes of others. "Self-consciousness," often tied with
the
maturation
process of 'losing the innocence' of childhood, is, according to
mimetic
theory, more accurately an "other-consciousness." We become
increasingly
aware of how others see us, and so we increasingly see ourselves
through
the eyes of others. My reflections
for
Lent
1 bring out the role of eyes in the Genesis 3 story; and I
suggest a good February story, the movie Groundhog
Day, as an illustration of seeing ourselves and the
world
through
the eyes of others. I also suggest an ideal
Girardian resource for understanding this theme, namely,
Chapter 9
of James Alison's On
Being
Liked.

John 3 presents the opportunity to extend this theme over several
weeks
-- the theme of persons constituted through the eyes of others --
through
its language of being born from above. We are reborn from above as
we
find
ourselves being known through God's loving eyes in Jesus Christ.
Nicodemus
is still perhaps too closed off to this possibility. He even comes
under
the cover of darkness, signaling his not wanting to be seen.

This week's text in John 4 provides a good example of being
reborn
in
the Samaritan woman at the well. She encounters Jesus in the
bright
light
of high noon, and through the eyes of Jesus she is able to see
herself
in a new light. And Lent 4A brings a climax of these themes,
perhaps,
with
the John 9 text about rebirthing humanity and healing our
blindness by
seeing ourselves through the forgiving eyes of Jesus. Will there
be an
extension of these themes for the John 11 text of Lent 5A? In 2005
I'm
in a team ministry and don't preach every week; but perhaps 2008
will
provide
the opportunity for five weeks under the theme: "Reborn from above
to
eternal
life through God's loving eyes in Jesus Christ."

5. The 2005 sermon (largely extemporized from notes and not
offered
here as a manuscript) did have behind it the theme of seeing
ourselves
through others, but developed it in terms of John's basic image: I
spoke
of our thirst for an unconditional love to affirm us as worthy
human
beings.
We all suffer from this to some extent or another. But I explored
it in
the case of this woman and the parallel modern categories of
sexism and
racism. I had attended the Friday before a town hall meeting on
racism.
There are the huge institutional ways in which racism affects
people of
color, such as much higher incarceration rates, especially for
drug
offenses.
(The statistics show that white people are most frequently
imprisoned
for
violent crimes, as we would expect; but people of color are
currently
most
often imprisoned not for violent crime, but for drug offenses.)
Prison
is a sure place in our modern world for a person's spirit to die
of
thirst.
But it is even more difficult for white folks to understand all
the
little
ways that people of color face day-to-day of having their
affirmation
dried
up. The woman of color who was presenting on fair housing took a
moment
to tell one of these stories. She is a black Latina woman and was
shopping
with a fair-skinned woman of Mexican heritage; she was the one
trying
to
make the purchase, but the sales clerk kept addressing her
fair-skinned
friend.

As a white male, I can become aware of the privilege that this
rarely
if ever happens to me. I've seen it happen to my wife: we are
buying a
car together and she is doing most of the talking, but the sales
person
keeps addressing me. I've seen it happen to people in
wheel-chairs,
that
others will talk to the person pushing the chair as if the one in
the
chair
isn't there. It happens a lot to children -- I've done it myself
--
that
we address the adult with them on a matter that more directly
involves
them. There are so many ways everyday in which we treat others as
lesser,
and we ourselves are treated as such. There are also insidious and
massive
ways in which such treatment as lessers is institutionalized
around
skin
color, ethnic heritage, gender, physical ability, sexual
preference,
and
so on. And so our world continues to be thirsty for the
unconditional
love
of a heavenly parent who shows no preferential treatment, sending
the
Son
to die as one cast out and raising him as the source of living
water of
that unconditional love and forgiveness. The woman at the well,
and her
fellow citizens of Sychar, received a foretaste of that living
water
for
poured out for all in the cross. (Remember that John is the only
evangelist
who has a soldier pierce Jesus's side for a gush of water.)

1. But see John 3:36 ! It is
clear
from the context, however, that this is an anthropological
reality, not
a theological one. It is less immediately clear that the same is
true
of
the Pauline uses of wrath (though it is no less true).